It's Nothing Special
by Kar-cutie756
Summary: I didn't know what his problem was, jumping through hoop after hoop to fluster then completely leave me. He had the advantage in everything, and it was time for the tables to turn.


(hey -ho! Its Kar-cutie756!

DaveKat is one of my favorite pairings. *swoons* I couldn't live without it. If you're reaing this and you're an active DaveKat writer, DONT STOP.

This is a bit of a sequal to This Didn't Happen Quite Right, the DaveKat side of the story. But both stand on their own well. If you ship one, you can read one, but if you ship both then all the better! This one was written without the help of the beloved Mira-chan1717, as I didn't have the guts to ask her for help with a ship she's testing the water out with.

anyway, enjoy~)

Its nothing special

Chapter 1

The day started out shitty.

Ed was screaming about something, running out the door with a book and some toast between his teeth, waking me up at an ungodly hour. It was six, and school started at eight.

I could've slept another hour, but apparently it was a bright start to annoy Karkat day. Where people decided to annoy the shit out of Karkat, and Egbert went out of his way to yell stupid things like 'Ptchooo!' and 'Beep beep meow!'

Oh, hold on, That's everyday.

I have way too many assholes in my life.

I rolled over in bed, and, as luck would have it, was the edge of the bed. I fell and landed face-first, my neck bent at an odd angle. I whined about it for a couple seconds, still a bit sleepy. Before my whole body fell over, out of bed.

After a couple seconds of lying there, stewing over reality, I found no one to blame, so I got up and went to get ready.

I only glanced at the shower before deciding I would take one at night, AKA, later. I shook my hair and it simply fell into place. I had long since stopped using the brush. I put in my silver piercings, in various places on my face.

I tugged on my favorite black and gray hoodie, along with my red converse that had been ripped and repaired so many times; they were basically just duct tape now. And a black t-shirt with 'NO' written on it in white.

Basically describes my mood today.

I ventured outside, nobody was really out at this hour, most were still asleep. Like I should be. Fucking hipster.

I trudged across the semi-wet sidewalk, eyes at the ground, hands stuffed in my pockets.

Oh, hey there's the asshole. One of them.

"HEY! SLOW DOWN ASSHOLE!" I screamed, running to catch up.

He didn't even slow down, that douche.

I did finally catch up with him, I don't know WHY. My face was red from the lack of good oxygen coming in, replaced by ice cold freezer air.

"Thanks for the consideration, fuckass, I enjoy running through the cold air just to be a part of your ever holy and sacred early routine." I hissed through gritted teeth.

"You're welcome KK." And he smirked down at me. DOWN at me, purposely. I know he did, for his amusement. I KNOW WHEN IVE BEEN INSULTED.

I stopped this incredibly intelligent exchange to catch my breath properly, flicking my bangs out of my eyes instead.

He commented graciously on my thread bare clothes, like I could afford anything better. HA.

"I bet your boyfriend loveth it."

Oh my god. "SHUT UP, I don't fucking have one, okay?!" I grumbled, looking at my shoes. Using the move that always won the game for me.

"At least I don't have a fucking love-hate thing with a hipster."

That got him worked up, like it usually does. He stalked off, with his hood up as I laughed behind him at my verbal victory.

He needs to work out his issues.

I rubbed my temples, just one more asshole to deal with today. Then I'm free! Free forever! For the rest of the three hours until lunch!

"Stridouche"

"Vantasshole."

Was the usual exchange between me and Strider as I walked into class. I sat in my seat, directly in front of him, which was incredibly frustrating, because he could do what he wanted back there with out me knowing.

I would probably do the same in those conditions, but that's not the point. If I turned around and he was doing nothing, I would lose, If I turned around afterward I would lose. I had to turn while he was plotting, and that usually didn't stop him either.

Sometimes I would just toss random crumpled up papers behind me, I would know when they hit when the came flying back for revenge on the back of my head.

This was war, Goddamnit.

I don't quite remember if I was just extremely pissed off, or if he really was being a dick that day, but I was ready to blow my stack at the slightest touch from behind.

Before Sollux slouched in.

He is such a sad sack today, I don't know what the problem was, and quite frankly, I didn't want to know. But I asked anyway. Because that's what bros do.

I was right, It was something stupid. I sighed and turned back to working on whatever train wreck I had started. When I felt a small tug on my hood. At first it scared the everliving shit out of me, and I shrieked, arching my back.

Before I realized,

Its just Strider.

And then I flew off the handle.

Spinning around, I screamed so loud, I swear the hobos outside could hear.

"I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD STRIDER, IF YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME AGAIN I WILL END YOU." I topped it off with a canine-like snarl.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as some people forced their heads back to the computers, while others, including Sol, sunk down into their seats.

He shrugged, black shades reflecting the fluorescent lighting, not nearly enough to let me see through it. And placed his hands behind his head, turning back to simply stare at his screen. Thoroughly done talking and/or interacting with me.

The next three asshole-free hours passed without incident. That is comparing them to usual.

I had gym with a friend, Gamzee. He wasn't always all there, zoning out sometimes, not listening at the most opportune times I needed him to listen. His unruly black hair stuck out in all directions, the only hair more wild then mine. It only hung to his chin, but if he straightened it, it would surely go down to his neck.

However, he towered over me, the top of my head coming to his collarbone. I shouldn't feel too bad, he's taller then everyone. But he still managed to piss me off about it. I had to stand on a box to be eye-level and it was really degrading to have to talk up and watch him talk down.

But this was all necessary because he seemed to be the only one capable of taking all my shit in one go. My language and my attitude didn't seem to faze him at all.

"Hey best friend." He pronounced it in a very mellow, uneven tone.

I sighed, not really feeling up to much conversation for some reason. "Hey."

He tipped his head a little, and made a strange honking noise from the back of his throat. "Okay, motherfucker, what's all up with you today?"

"Nothing, just Strider."

He honked again in acknowledgement, not really going that much into it, we made light, non-Dave related conversation up until the bell, upon which we parted ways. He waved goodbye and walked in the opposite direction with his friend.

I had to skip past the courtyard to meet Sol so we could have lunch together, and, as per usual, it was fucking freezing. I shivered, Fall was great while it lasted, about two days. But this was fucking winter weather. That didn't seem fair somehow.

I yanked my hood up, preparing to jam my hands in my pockets, but that moment never happened, something poked the back of my head from the inside of the hood. I reached in my hood and felt around before my hand closed around a small folded piece of paper.

I yanked it out, quickly unfolding it. I swear to god, If John is doing his fucking prankster gambit again, I'm gonna….

But no, it wasn't Johns long-ish scribbles that passed for words somehow, it was surprisingly neat handwriting that read out simply:

"West Bathroom, 10:15.

-Dave"

Strider.

I scowled, blushing slightly, Is that what he was messing around with back there? Then it must've been there all fucking day, goddamnit.

I crumpled up the paper, and made a small starting motion to throw it over my shoulder, but halted. And glanced at the clock, 10:10.

I have time…

I looked at the wadded up piece of paper in my hand.

Fuck it, this'd better be good. Sol could wait. Right?

Probably not, but he would have to manage on his own, and act his own age.

I stuffed the paper into my pocket, feeling like it weighed a million tons suddenly.

Oh, no wait,

That was the anxiety.


End file.
